Shoes

"Would you rather be called Jabba the Julie, or Julie the Hutt?"
"Jabba the Julie, maybe?"

Yesterday I dragged Jabba the Julie off the couch and made her take a walk with me. Part of this dragging involved putting shoes on her. Have you ever put a shoe on another person's foot? You feel like you're going to snap it off. Then after a few unsuccessful seconds, you fantasize about snapping it off. Finally, it makes an unlikely sloop sound and it's on.

In a few months, she won't be able to bend over to tie her shoes. Then later she won't be able to see whether she's even wearing shoes. And that'll be absolutely hilarious.

I almost bought baby shoes the other day. It was an ultimately flawed mother-to-be gift, like "Hey honey, put these supercute baby Birkenstocks on your desk at work."

"But feet are disgusting," she would have said.
"Yes, but these are for lovely baby feet that do not even exist yet," I would have replied.
"So you got me sandals for grody womb feet."

That would've been trouble. The bad production of Swan Lake was much better.